


The Unstoppable Force and the Immovable Object

by psuedo118



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: F/F, Lesbian Character, POV Second Person, Requited Love, Unrequited Love, mentions lin/tenzin, switches between kya and lin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-23
Updated: 2016-03-02
Packaged: 2018-04-23 00:46:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 6,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4856771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psuedo118/pseuds/psuedo118
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I'm not sure how to qualify this fic. It's written in interchanging Second Person Point of View's belonging to Kya and Lin. It's an attempt to understand their relationship over the years.</p><p>You want a summary? Here it is:</p><p>What happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

She’s a woman of the Earth. And you’re a woman of the Water. She has callouses on her hands, made rough from years of handling earth and stone. And she knows that you’re soft, so soft, with curves in places that tempt calloused hands to touch. But you can remember a time when those hand’s were not always so tough. There was a time, when you were younger, when you watched those hand’s learn to sculpt and shape the earth. And you were there with your water, to mend the scrapes and bruises made by the earth that she was learning to bend. You were young then, only a few years older than her, but she was a force of nature. She was as hard and as steady as the rock that she learnt to control and form. You took her for granted then, that there was another girl on the island, who could bend, who wasn’t afraid to take you on. She was always getting into scraps, always running with the boys, proving her toughness, the Immovable Lin Beifong. And then you got a little older, and you watched the precious stone that would one day be Republic City’s Chief of Police learn to bend metal with ease. But there’s something guarded and uncertain in the way she looks at you, you would hesitate to say almost shy, but there’s something that’s changed, in her; in you. You watch as your brother seems to realise that Lin was, in fact, a girl. You listened to his idea’s of building a life with the solid little Lin, and you ached, for something that you didn’t quite understand. And you hated him, for being the Air bender in the family, for being the youngest, for having the audacity to look at Lin as something more.

 

She is a woman of the Water. And you’re a woman of the Earth. Her every movement is an effortless flow, her temper, like watching a flurry of rapids. And she knows that you’re hard, but that that hardness can be malleable in her hands. And you know that she’s the only one can seep inside the tightest of crevices, regardless of the earth and metal that you could use to fortify yourself. When you were younger, you admired her from a far. She was so graceful, free willed and self-assured, and her certainty shook your foundations. And you learnt of a different type of bending, because with a look she could bend your heart, and sweep you up into the current of her gaze. You’re being toed under, drowning in emotions that don’t make sense - that shouldn’t exist, for the Avatar’s daughter, the Unstoppable Kya. She’s older than you, and you love coming to visit the island. You have a family there: in Aunt Katara and Uncle Aang’s children. You like to grapple with Bumi even though he’s much older than you. And you get to see Kya. You like the moments when she’s meditating because it means you can observe her stillness like a lake, shimmering with light glancing off it instead of the whirlpool of energy and exuberance that she normally is. And then one day, after years of watching, in this ever increasing side-wash of feeling, with waves crashing down: she leaves. And you feel like a mangled shipwreck left after a storm, moored on an empty beach. Alone.


	2. Chapter 2

She’s a woman of the Earth. And you’re a woman of the Water. And you wear a turquoise half-moon stone on your travels. Her mother gave it to you before you left. You take it without saying a word, suddenly feeling exceptionally exposed. And you looked into her milky eyes, staring in wonder at the cheeky familiar smile and you press the shaped gemstone to your heart. It’s a relief that someone knows your feelings, that someone knows the reason that you can’t stay and watch her fall in love with your brother. Aunt Toph says that the stone is a promise, that everything will work out; That you don’t choose who you love. And she cups your cheek in an almost motherly way, and the roughness of her fingertips remind you of Lin as they brush the tears from where the fall silently down your face. And unbeknownst to them, you watch them from your place in the shadows as they take an evening stroll through the Air Temple, Air and Earth, opposites. When they hold hands and look up to contemplate the stars, your decision is made, you must leave. And your heart clenches as Aunt Toph’s words echo back: You don’t choose who you love. Staying is unthinkable. Your first stop is at jewellery merchant Downtown that places the gemstone on a strip of leather. And you think of your mother’s necklace as you put your own. You’re supposed to be travelling the world to get away from Lin Beifong, not binding the thought of her to you before you have even left the outer limits of the city. But the truth is that it is not Lin that you are leaving. You are leaving for yourself. And so you touch the stone where it hangs in the valley of your throat, and you think of her. Because this way, perhaps, things will work out.

She is a woman of the Water. And you’re a woman of the Earth. Without her it feels like the driest weeks of summer, before the rains will come. You feel exposed and alone like the reefs in spring tide, or the mountains without their snowcaps in summer time. There’s an element missing from your life, and you can’t understand it. You weren’t that close. You certainly didn’t treat each other like sisters. You suppose you were friends. Maybe it’s because Bumi is away training now. You’re morose and frustrated. You spend a lot of time at Air Temple Island, but not around Tenzin, who gives up trying to improve your mood with - and this is unusual even for him - ‘silly’ games. Instead you follow around Aunt Katara. She doesn’t fill you with what you need, doesn’t even come close, but there’s a piece of the person you’re missing inside of her. And you’re parched. You bond a lot over that summer. You avoid the topic of Tenzin or any one of her children for that matter. You ask her about Water bending, and her favourite ways of bending. When you’re around her you feel calmer. Like the world isn’t entirely horrible. So you find out from her what the Water Tribes are like; and you ask her about the Northern Lights. But there’s a name you never mention. A certain water bender you never initiate the conversation about; you won’t; you can’t. And so you go out with Tenzin, because he’s persistent, because he’s there. Because she’s not.


	3. Chapter 3

She’s a woman of the Earth. And you’re a woman of the Water. And it’s been a month since you left home. A month since you have spoken to a loved one. Sure, you’ve stayed with a number of your parents friends as you make your way. You’ve even used you're healing ability to heal for money, and that has helped with your clothing and food situation. You’re finally doing what you’ve always wanted to do, travel and be free. Which is why you can’t understand why you feel so glum. And yet, when you see a black head of hair bob through the crowd your heart lifts, before you realise it can’t be her. That she’s a few hundred miles away. That she’s probably happily enchanted in the arms of your brother, and the patient you're treating yelps in pain, and you look at the bright red welt that your boiling water has left behind. You heal the welt, and apologise profusely before the head healer can fire you or dock your pay. You need this weeks money for a sturdy coat and boat pass to the Southern Water Tribe. Your heart pangs for Appa, at least that’s what you tell yourself. And so you settle down late that night to write home.

She is a woman of the Water. And you’re a woman of the Earth. One day Uncle Sakka is over for dinner at the island and there’s a flurry of more information to be garnered. You’re just curious, that’s all. There’s nothing wrong with being interested in other cultures. Sakka’s returned to Republic City from a visit to home to the Water Tribe, but no, he didn’t see Kya while he was there, he answers Katara’s question, as Lin sags disappointedly beside her. In the weeks that follow Katara grows suspicious as Lin avoids Tenzin’s suggestion of a picnic on the beach one too many times. Instead she says she’d rather hear about the fishing techniques of the Southern Water tribe for the several hundredth time, as she helps Katara with her work. Katara had used to use the retelling of the techniques to knock an overactive baby Bumi out for the night when he was a child. And so she watches Lin as she swirls her hand in a bowl of water, unusually pensive for the little girl who used to mud-wrestle a much older Bumi just for fun when she was ten. But when she broaches the subject Katara can’t get a read on what troubles the girl. Kya was always better in tune with the young earth-bender, so different from Toph at the same age. Katara thinks that perhaps the girl just doesn’t know how to shift her relationship with Tenzin from friendship to something more, and she remembers how hard it had been for her and Aang when they were even younger than they are now. Katara talks of love and bending, and while Katara talks your thoughts drift to Kya, and you stare guiltily to where Tenzin sits meditating in front of Uncle Aang. And when Katara realises that the look that Lin is giving Tenzin is not longing or hope, but guilt, she realises that she needs to talk to Kya or Toph about what’s troubling the girl. When Katara tries to probe you with questions with regard to your feelings, you decide to start two weeks a head of time as a junior officer in the Republic City Police Force. You know that Aunt Katara must have seen something in you that day, and you can’t keep hanging around Air Temple Island because it will be a matter of time before Aunt Katara pries the truth out of you. At least there’s no need to go through the police academy, everyone knows you’re an excellent metal bender. You have a reputation before you even put your uniform on. And more experience than some of the high ranking detectives, your mother started training you at four years old. You try harder in your relationship with Tenzin because you feel achingly guilty. But you don’t need love. And you certainly don’t need Kya.


	4. Chapter 4

She’s a woman of the Earth. And you’re a woman of the Water. And your mother’s letter’s to you are filled to the brim with questions and thoughts about Lin. She tells you about Tenzin’s infatuation and Lin’s indifference and you try not to feel too happy. The ebb and flow of their relationship shouldn’t interest you. It’s discourteous to be happy at someone else’s unhappiness - and terrible Karma, or so the herbalist that you are currently freelancing for reminds you. Your Mom tells you about Lin’s run in with Su. How she had been hurt with her own cables, and how she had not wanted Katara to heal the wound but to leave the scars as a reminder for herself. And for days’ Kya had ached with the knowledge that if she had been there, she would have used her water to mended the scars that adorn her face now, and she would have tried to heal some of the scars upon Lin’s heart as well. You worry about Lin as an officer, not because you do not think that she is capable. But rather because she has always seemed like she had something to prove - to herself, to her mother, to the boys. Tough as nails, that immovable Lin Beifong. In her letter’s to you, Katara writes of Lin’s estrangement with Aunt Toph, and Kya aches for Lin, for the approval she’ll never get from her mother, so different from her own relationship with Katara. Although you’ve never told your mother about your interest in women, so perhaps that might change. So you decide to write to your mother about the girl that you love. You write about all the things you love about her, her strength, her stoicism, her fearlessness and stubbornness, everything except her name, except that she is not with you at all, except that she is dating your brother. Accept that she’ll never be yours.

She is a woman of the Water. And you’re a woman of the Earth. And your relationship with Tenzin seems like a series of vignettes strung together. He tries so hard, and you barely try at all. And you know that he deserves better, but you don’t know if he would even listen to you if you tried to break it off. As it is he won’t listen to how you don’t want children. He thinks you’re just being stubborn, but the truth is that you won’t create another human being just to hurt it and damage it the way that your Mother has hurt you, damaged you. And he looks at you like you are a strange apparition from the Spirit Wilds, because how is he supposed to grow his father’s Air bending lineage if not with the strongest woman that he knows. So you work double-shift’s, and pretend you can’t get away, when he’s not visiting lost Air Temples with Uncle Aang. And you pretend to be just jealous enough around fawning newly recruited Air Acolytes. A Water Tribe restaurant opens in Republic City and Tenzin tries to take you there for your six year anniversary. After all, he knows how much you love the Water Tribe and it’s customs, it was Aunt Katara’s suggestion. And both admissions have you wincing. To his dismay, you invite the entire family along instead, even Uncle Sakka and Bumi. Bumi’s home on leave,and he regales the group tales of his adventures, and, incidentally, of running into Kya at a random port up north somewhere. And this drop of information is the sweetest thing you’ve tasted in years. But you try not to look too eager, too excited. And you feel Katara’s eyes on you and you wonder what she’s thinking, what she knows. And you can’t help the tremor that runs through the earth when Aunt Katara asks Bumi about the girl that Kya is dating. And you say, “Girl?” with an uncharacteristic squeak, as Tenzin frowns in disapproval beside you. And Katara’s smile broadens and says, “Yes, Kya’s been writing to me about some Earth-bender girl that she’s been dating. She seems very happy.” And Uncle Aang beside her says, “It’s unusual, but I would expect nothing less from Kya. As long as she’s happy.” You’re stunned into silence. You stare down at your noodles, swirling them around and around, but you’ve lost your appetite. Kya is dating a woman. And Earth-bender, and she’s happy. And her parents have not disowned her, the world has not ended for her, she’s happy. Bumi says he never met the girl and that Kya didn’t mention one, and cackles at the thought that his little sister might be too shy to introduce him to her girlfriend. And your stomach clenches at the word ‘girlfriend’.


	5. Chapter 5

She’s a woman of the Earth. And you’re a woman of the Water. You met Aunt Toph in Ba Sing Se, newly retired and embracing a newly spiritual track that you can’t help but balk at when you see yourself reflected in her. Is that what you did? Abandon Lin? You try to ask about Lin, but she calls her an “ungrateful lily liver”, and you frown, ready to defend her. But before you can, out of nowhere she says, “I heard you had a girlfriend.” And you're not sure if it’s a statement or a question, but you know that she knows that you’re lying the minute you say, “Something like that…” Instead of saying anything, Aunt Toph touches the curved stone where it hangs from you throat, and simply says, “Nice, jewellery kid.” And shuffling your feet, your glad she can’t see the blush creeping up your throat. And before you can answer she says, “I thought you would have gone back for her already.” And when you stay silent she says, “Don’t leave it too long, Kid.” You nod, and then simply say, “Yes.” when you actually want to say the same thing to her. But instead of heading straight home, you set sail north. When you finally reach the Water tribe, you make excuses not to return to Republic City: You start to train young water bender’s; you start training advanced water benders as healers; you teach meditation; you help with buildings and fortification; and you hunt with the tribe. It feels good to be apart of a community again to be contributing, to feel worth. And you try to push Aunt Toph’s word’s from your mind, that everlasting longing to go home. To go to her.

She is a woman of the Water. And you’re a woman of the Earth. You’re working late downtown one night when you collar two perp’s for beating up a woman in an alleyway. The woman is a pretty red head, with curves in all the right places, and she’s a few years younger than you. You let her ride up front with you in your Police Sato Mobile, and you are glad you were there to save her from anything worse than the few bruises that mar her pale skin in the moonlight. You drop the perp’s off at the station and take her statement. You file all the paper work, stretch out all your kinks from a long day on the job and call it a night. On your way out you pass reception and find she’s still seated in the waiting room, so you offer her a lift home, considering everything she’s been through. And when you stop outside her apartment she rests her hand on your thigh instead of getting out to go home. And you close your eyes when she whispers a hot and breathy invitation in your ear for you to come up, for a drink to say thank you. And for once you don’t think of Tenzin who you’ve been dating for nearly nine years, nor do you think of Kya and her girlfriend off galavanting across the world. No, for once you don’t think at all, as you hands slide into red curls and you press your mouth against hers. And when you stop for breath you say, “Lead the way.” It’s you first time with a woman, and it’s more pleasurable than it’s ever been with Tenzin. But you never see her again, nor any of the other dalliances that you rack up over the years. Your farce of a relationship with Tenzin carries on for another year or so before he declares his love for some Air Acolyte on the Island. And so you throw a fit of landslide proportions, not because you wanted him, not really. But without him you would no longer have the excuse to pretend: that you loved him; that you weren’t in love with Kya; that you were happy.


	6. Chapter 6

She’s a woman of the Earth. And you’re a woman of the Water. And you’ve come home to bury your father. You haven’t been home in many years, too many to count. And you know it’s been a mistake when you see her face. She’s harder now, fortified somehow. She looks beautiful in her Sergeant’s uniform. But she stands alone. And you grieve for the years that you lost with your father. And the years that you’ve lost with her. Aunt Toph was the one who found you, probably through some advanced earth-bending skills. Your father died in his sleep peacefully, a week after his birthday, and the shock of his passing has everyone reeling. After the service, you need some space, and you ask her if she would like to go for a walk. You slip into something with her - a forgotten intimacy you couldn’t know would still be here after all these years. You don’t talk, but you both settle down on the dock, your leg’s dangling in the water side by side. And maybe, it’s the thrall of grief that has you both caught up in something you can’t quite define. From your mother’s letter’s you know that she’s been single a few years now, that she never found anyone after Tenzin. And you don’t know if that’s blessing or a curse, as you watch the soft rays from the sunset soften her features. And you wonder if she’s still in love with Tenzin, and the thought has you aching, your insides already jumbled with loss of your father. And you stroke your fingertips over the ridges of her scars. And you ask if it hurt, and she murmurs something about ‘only her ego’. You lean your head on her shoulder in companionable silence. And you feel the most centred you’ve felt in years. Lin’s done what years of travel were supposed to do. She’s your foundation and your core.

She is a woman of the Water. And you’re a woman of the Earth. You want to ask about her Earth-bender girlfriend but the words are like stones caught in the back of your throat. Instead you fain a coughing fit and gently nudge her up from her position on your shoulder. It feels too good. She feels too good against you. First her hands on your scar and then this? This ease is making you uncomfortable, and you have to remind yourself she’s not here for you. Not really. She’s here to mourn. And so you’ll just be what you’ve always clearly been to her: a friend. And so you straighten your back, and turn to her, hands clenched onto the dock. That is, until you’re reaching out for the stone dangling at the base of her throat, escaped from the confines of her funeral grab. And your eyes search her’s, as your fingers thrum against the familiar stone. “Kya?” and her name, barely a breath, is a roaring question in your mind. And Kya grabs your hand and looks away as she murmurs, “Your mother gave it to me.” And in a whoosh you say, “But why? That’s… This is the first piece of metal I ever bent is wrapped in that stone.” And you can feel the pieces of this puzzle slamming together like stones in your mind, but you just can’t figure out what it means. And so you say, without really thinking, “I didn’t know Toph had even kept it after all these years.” And you can feel Kya’s pulse throb underneath where your knuckles lie against her skin. The stone resting between your finger tips until Kya says, “Actually she gave it to me before I left.”


	7. Chapter 7

She’s a woman of the Earth. And you’re a woman of the Water. And you can see that Lin can’t quite grasp why you would be wearing this particular stone, let alone something Toph had given you over a decade before. And so you don’t say anything. Instead you watch as the realisation slides gradually into place. “Toph gave you a token of mine before you left.” A nod and a blush from you. “Did you - was it - already wasitalreadyonamartialstrip when she gave it to you?” You’ve never been a coward, but you’re secretly contemplating shooting yourself upwards with the water at your feet. Lin wouldn’t be able to follow. You could be half-way across the bay in minutes. But you’ve run from this moment for too long. So instead you shake of your head, and she says, “But you left.” It’s a statement, not a question. And it feels like a slap. And with your eyes still on the water beneath your feet, you say, “I had to.” And you can feel the earth rumble against the dock, the vibration through the water, as if the woman beside you is about to explode but to your surprise there’s a quiet but deadly: “You had to.” And she’s up and she’s already pacing away from you before you even know what’s happening. Instead you use the water at your feet to launch yourself in her path. You have to stop her. “Lin wait!” But she’s unseeing, as you push against her chest. “No Kya!” And when you look into her eyes, you can see the unshed tears. But you pale as she stops and says, “Why? Why would you leave? Why would you leave and carry a piece of me, the first piece of metal and stone I ever bent, on a martial band on your throat for the past ten years.” Her words are full of hot anguish, boiling hot pain. Until with an angry sob she says, “Why would you leave?” 

She is a woman of the Water. And you’re a woman of the Earth. Your arms are gripping her upper shoulders. And Kya is biting her lip, and you feel like a slow horse-moose when you think to yourself a second before her lips touch yours that: ‘Kya’s going to kiss me’. And as slow as your mind had been watching Kya’s tongue wet her lips seconds before, it’s catching up fast now. The purest Jade had never felt this exquisite to touch or bend. And you can feel you arms around her, as the kiss deepens. And for the first time you feel as if you know what flying must feel like, without the earth beneath you, or cables to swing and launch yourself across the air. No, this is like air-bending, you can feel every part of yourself lifting. And the deepest part of you, the part that never dared, gives rumble of acknowledgement: because you knew. You knew that Kya would be everything. That kissing her would feel like this. It shocks you when she deepens the kiss, her tongue in your mouth makes you smile into the kiss because of course, this brazen woman would have you naked right here if she could get you out of your - your - wait. “But what about your girlfriend?” You meant to ask this in a stern tone, but instead you’re practically breathless, and her eyes dart from your mouth to your eyes, as if she can’t comprehend what you’re even talking about. So you unwrap your arms from around her and push her away a little and you ask with more clarity, “Kya, what about your girlfriend?” She looks at you like you’re the crazy, and incredulously she says, “What girlfriend?” And once again that anger flairs inside of you at the audacity of this woman acting like a petulant sloth-monkey: “The girlfriend that I’ve had to hear about for years!?” Hands in the air, pacing once more. “The Earth-bender with the dark hair! You spoke about her in every letter to Aunt Katara.” And you grow furious when you turn back and Kya arms folded, seems to be watching you smugly. “Is this a game to you?” And suddenly Kya looks more serious as she says, “No. It’s not Lin.” and she’s in front of you once more, hands on you cheeks, guiding your eyes to hers when she says, “Lin… the girl I was writing about… wasn’t with me… she was… it was… I was writing about you.”


	8. Chapter 8

She’s a woman of the Earth. And you’re a woman of the Water. And you can see that once again you’ve taken her aback. With a few words you’ve rocked her core. She’s studying you face as if you’ve spoken a different language. Until after several beats of silence she says, “You mean, for the past few years I’ve been jealous of myself?” And Kya says mischievously, “You were jealous?” But instead Lin darkens, years of pain and anguish swelling up, as she closes her eyes and with a shake of her head she simply says: “Desperately.” And your own heart aches at the tone at the emotion. And when Lin opens her eyes again, you can see that her eyes are brimming with unshed tears. She lays a finger at you throat on your stone and says once more, “Why did you have to leave?” And you know, you have to tell her, there’s no escaping the green eyes piercing your own. So finally you say, “I had to leave because I couldn’t bear to watch you fall in love with Tenzin.”  
Lin is looking at you like you are crazy, and when she says, “Tenzin.” it sounds more like “What?” than his own name. But before you can respond she says, “But you must know that the only reason I dated Tenzin was because you weren’t here?” You swell forwards again, before you can control yourself. Before you even know what you’re thinking. You fall into her, into the kiss as joyfully as if you were a young girl again. And this time the kisses are filled with every bit of longing that you’ve felt for her over the years. The thought that she never wanted Tenzin bounces around your head, when you’re not thinking about her lips against your own. And the knowledge that maybe that was what you’ve waited all these years to hear. Her lips! She’s so much softer than you thought she would be. You always imagined her feeling like sculpted marble under your touch, the immovable Lin Beifong. Instead her lips taste salty like the ocean, even though you know its a mixture of your tears. Of years of pent up feelings. When you kissed her before it was a declaration. This is so much more.

She is a woman of the Water. And you’re a woman of the Earth. Things are moving quickly, a landslide of sorts. A mountain of things unsaid no longer between the two of you. And she leads you to her temporary room on the Island. You first instinct is to take it slow. Why not date? But you know its just a ruse. You’ve taken it slow, decades too slow already. You need each other now. Apart of you worries that this is just Kya’s grief, that sleeping together might just be that age old reflex, faced with death and your own mortality. But you can’t bear to think that she won’t still want you tomorrow. So you won’t think of it. You’ll take what she gives in this moment. And focus on her body, on the stone that hangs like a drop above you, on the band that seems like a promise make long ago. And Gods do you love her. You always have. This woman on the edge, gasping above you, as you bend her towards ecstasy. You roll on top of her and grind down instead and watch as her eyes slip from yours and roll back. So you suck, less than gently on the nipple practically begging to suckled, as you feel her sex squeeze and flutter against your fingers. And as her orgasm rushes against you fingers you find her mouth on yours, her hands in your hair, and you know. This is always how it was meant to be. You’ve been with women before, but every single one of them had been missing something - they weren’t Kya. You’re still swimming from the kiss when you realise that she’s reversed your positions, and you start to feel embarrassed when she makes her way down your body. A multitude of scars mark her path and you try not to squirm as she kisses each one. And then her mouth is at that sweet spot as she kisses the inside of each thigh. And you know what’s coming, but oh dear gods. Your hands are in her hair and you don’t know whether to push her away or pull her against you. All you can think about is her tongue, and then her fingers. As you begin to ride this unstoppable force into heaven. Kya is you heaven and your earth, as you gasp and shake and tremble against her tongue. You can barely speak as you tug her up to you, you’re too sensitive now. And her lips are on yours with the taste of you, as you crush her against you. You try convey everything in that kiss, but mostly, your unspoken love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bow chicka wow wow


	9. Chapter 9

She’s a woman of the Earth. And you’re a woman of the Water. And there are times in the next few days when you are so very grief stricken over your father that you feel as if it is tearing your insides apart. The guilt for not being there for him over the years swells within you. And the only one who seems to make a difference is Lin. But being with her is a rollercoaster as well. You’ve never been in a relationship, not really. Meaningless one night stands, yes, but you’ve never ever felt so buoyant. You both agreed to keep your relationship a secret for now. Which in itself seems to add to the buoyancy, it’s a shared private world between you. Earth and Water in harmony. And at night you cling to one another, whispering promises that neither hope will be forgotten by morning. But this haze of glory just seems inappropriate, and to declare your overwhelming happiness for one another so soon after losing your father… You both know that you can’t do that. Who knows how Tenzin would react even though he has Pema. And you would never do that to him, not now while he’s so vulnerable, he’s still your little brother after all. Of course Bumi is the first to figure it out. He sees you smiling at Lin one day as you walk to dinner, and immediately pulls you aside and spins you around like you’ve won a prize. He’s practically bouncing when he says, “Finally!” and dances some sort of music-less congo, that has you blushing furiously. You have to shush him, and ask him to keep your secret. He agrees reluctantly, but you see he can’t help punching Lin on the arm before dinner, challenging her to fight just like old times. And when he has Lin in a choke-hold with her half-burying him alive you can see Lin freeze a moment before Bumi takes advantage. He’s distracted Lin, and you don’t know how, but they’re both grinning at one another and shaking hands. Bumi lifts Lin onto his shoulder, and Lin’s eyes immediately track to your own. A grin taking over from the furrowed pout, as she declares for all to hear that Bumi clearly cheated. You watch as your mother smiles for the first time in weeks. And your heart feels like it might burst for the love you have for the Immovable Lin Beifong.

She is a woman of the Water. And you’re a woman of the Earth. She’s moving back to the Water Tribe with Aunt Katara. And you are old enough to understand it, and accept it. Even if you both are acting like teenagers around one another at the moment. Gods know you’ll never get enough of that woman. However, Aunt Katara needs her daughter now, with Bumi enlisted and Tenzin’s new position as City Councilman, Kya the unstoppable force is needed. And so her and Aunt Katara will return to the Water Tribe, to where the next Avatar in the cycle will be born. Aunt Katara wants to be close to Aang’s spirit, and there’s a beauty in a love that transcends lives. And your eyes fall upon Kya where she’s talking to Pema, Tenzin’s Acolyte wife. And you wonder if you can lose something you never really had. If Kya’s kisses and the rest had been grief-stricken fallout. If these feeling and years between them have just been romanticised infatuation. And you can’t help but touch your lips, thinking of how the softness of her lips had lingered and bruised against your own. It’s more than you’d ever hoped for, but it’s also more painful than you ever expected. With Toph’s resignation the year before and the entire department in turmoil, you’ve been appointed Chief of Police so you can’t leave the City. Of course Toph had disappeared after the funeral. You try to keep your anger in check for the woman that is your mother, not that she ever nurtured you as a mother should. Kya still won’t tell you what Toph had said to her, and that’s fine, you suppose. Instead you think back in wonder to when Aunt Katara and Kya had boarded the ship to take them to the tribe. On the docks, when you were saying goodbye to Kya it had been nothing more than a fierce hug. (A more private and intimate - and lengthy - goodbye had taken over half of the morning.) And the first of many letters, delivered this time directly from Kya into your hands. You’ve both decided to write to one another while you are apart. And you’re devastated now that you hadn’t thought to write her something for her journey home. When you go to hug Aunt Katara, you are bewildered when she cups your cheeks in both her hands and kisses you on your forehead, before laying hers against yours. Familiar blue eyes searched yours, still filled with grief, but smiling under pools of sadness. And you are a bit puzzled as she says, “Don’t leave it too long.” Before patting your cheek and making her way up the gangway. The words haunt you for days, and you wish that you could tell Kya about them. But a part of you knows that you can’t. That you won’t. What did Aunt Katara mean? Does she know? So different from your own mother. And you hate yourself for how effortless it is to talk to her in these letters. You’ve never been a wordsmith. You’ve rather take action than write about it. But for hours each day you write drafts about every detail. A letter ready for Kya everyday or two. And in turn you receive an abundance of letters, that arrive in bulk. The joy you feel when you receive her letters is palpable. Coupled with a rumble of anticipation and excitement that ripples through you. You always make sure to read them where you won’t be interrupted. There is no outright declaration of love in these letters. She signs her letters “Love, Kya.” and you sign your’s “Yours, Lin.”   
For now, it will have to be enough, for this buoyancy and distance; this longing, vulnerability and pride.


End file.
